Chapter 462: Rations First
Chen Shixin led Zhang Yu out the main gate and to the side, where there was an inconspicuous small door guarded by two “fake Cropped-Hairs.”
He spoke a few words to the guards, who nodded, searched Zhang Yu, and then let them in.
Inside the door was another world: behind the side wing was a large open space and another building. However, the guards did not allow them to look around much and led them directly into a room. At the door of the room, there were more guards, openly carrying revolvers on their waists.
Zhang Yu had seen this type of revolver in Australian magazines and knew it was a powerful military weapon capable of continuous fire. Seeing it at such a close distance, even though it was holstered and only the grip was visible, was a small wish fulfilled.
However, the Australians’ tight security made Zhang Yu secretly wonder what they were up to.
The guard opened the door. Inside, a large table stood in the center of the room, piled high with papers and documents. Against the walls were square cabinets and bookshelves, also piled high with various files and registers.
Behind the table, a “chief” sat in a rattan chair.
Chen Shixin was one thing, but although it was Zhang Yu’s first time seeing him, he knew from his clothes and demeanor that this was a genuine, bona fide “real Cropped-Hair.”
This real Cropped-Hair was sturdily built, one could say broad and thick-waisted. His hair was as short as a monk’s, a true “Cropped-Hair bandit.” He wore short clothes, all made of cotton, soft, wrinkled, and a faded indigo color. It didn’t look very impressive. However, the aura he exuded was definitely that of someone with power and influence.
The stout man raised his eyes and looked over.
“This is Chief Hong,” Chen Shixin introduced. “And this is—”
Before he could finish, Zhang Yu’s legs gave way, and he knelt down with a thud, kowtowing, “This humble citizen, this humble citizen… Zhang Yu, pays his respects to the master… no, the chief…”
Hong Huangnan nodded, “Get up and speak.”
“Yes, yes, thank you for your grace, chief.” Zhang Yu trembled as he got up and stood with his hands clasped.
“Little Chen, this must be the good friend you mentioned. Whatever it is, just have him say it. My time is very precious,” Hong Huangnan said.
Hong Huangnan had been in Guangzhou for some time. Originally, the investment fair at the Great World had nothing to do with him. The Great World project team already had Zhang Yikun in charge, and after the “Guangzhou New City” plan was confirmed, most of the Senators in Hong Kong had flocked to the Great World, eager to get started. Besides the future general manager of the Great World, even the business representative in Hong Kong, Hong Shuiyin, had come to get a piece of the action, planning to set up a large wholesale market in the Great World.
As for Senator Hong Huangnan, as the director of the Joint Logistics Headquarters, his years on Hong Kong Island had been quite fulfilling. First, he provided logistical support for Operation Engine, transshipping thousands of tons of materials from the island. Although several other logistics Senators came later, scheduling ships and allocating goods still consumed half of Senator Hong’s brain cells. The results, however, were not entirely satisfactory: incidents like Kaohsiung receiving cotton clothes meant for Jeju Island, while Jeju Island received Zhuge’s marching powder, were not uncommon.
After the transshipment work was concluded, he began to implement the “Hong Kong Island Joint Logistics Center” plan, overseeing the construction of warehouses, excavation of caves, building of dams, and construction of wharves on the island. He also established a joint logistics food factory on the island, directly using ingredients purchased in the Pearl River Delta to process storable military food supplies.
Besides these official duties, Director Hong also frequently returned to Lingao and traveled between the “various jurisdictions of the Senate” to manage one of his private projects—the No. 82 Special Supply Store. Of course, this project theoretically belonged to the Senate and was under the leadership of the General Office—but he was the one running around for it from beginning to end.
Just as the No. 82 project was established and stocking was on track, the Military Affairs General Directorate issued the order for the “Guangdong Campaign Preparations.”
This was enough to drive him mad. In the past, the Fubo Army’s operational targets were all small: often a small island, a city, or a small area. Although the Pearl River Raid was large in scale, it relied mainly on the fleet’s ships moving along the rivers, and the army’s needs could be met with just the supply ships accompanying the fleet and a small amount of local procurement. The largest land-based military operation, “Summer Awakening,” was only on Hainan Island. Hainan was sparsely populated, and the scale of both enemies and potential enemies was small, their combat effectiveness negligible. Therefore, the forces and supply scale invested by the Fubo Army each time were not demanding—not to mention they had the convenience of coastal shipping. So organizing supplies was not difficult.
Now, the Fubo Army was to occupy the entire province of Guangdong. According to the “top secret” Guangdong campaign plan he had received, the Fubo Army’s military operations would cover the entire province. The mobilized army and navy would exceed 20,000 men—almost the entire strength of the Fubo Army. The plan also included the establishment of a Guangdong National Army, with the principle of “one company for each county occupied.” According to the Ming dynasty’s administrative divisions, Guangdong had 77 counties and 8 independent subprefectures, which meant 85 new companies of the National Army—and the equipment for these new companies, from head to toe, had to be shipped from Lingao.
The field troops, the security forces, the National Army, and the “eastward-advancing cadres” who were about to take over the provincial government—the food, clothing, housing, and transportation for all these people had to be procured and distributed by the Joint Logistics Headquarters.
Unlike Operation Engine, where the supply scale was vast and the variety of supplies complex, the supply points were few, and the troops did not need to move on a large scale. The main work of the joint logistics was allocating and transshipping goods, and the supply destinations were close to the depots. In the Guangdong campaign, the supply lines had to follow the advancing troops, and depots had to be established along the way. The complexity of coordination was far greater than before.
He had held several days of meetings in Lingao with Suo Pu and the Senators from the Planning Commission to discuss how to conduct this unprecedented large-scale logistical operation. The final plan was “local procurement.” That is, except for weapons, ammunition, and clothing, all food and fuel would be requisitioned locally in Guangdong.
Therefore, the start time for the Guangdong campaign was ultimately set for late autumn and early winter, right after the autumn harvest, when both public and private granaries would be full. Launching the attack at this time would make it easy to obtain sufficient grain and supplies, whether through requisition or purchase. The weather would be cool and suitable for marching and combat, and there would be fewer epidemics.
Although it was local procurement, the preparations for grain were still considerable. Most of the bulk grain stored locally was in the form of unhusked rice, and it was impossible for the field troops to husk the rice before cooking. To ensure the Fubo Army’s usual speed of action, sufficient field rations had to be guaranteed.
These field rations were not only diverse in variety but also required in large quantities. After discussing with Suo Pu, they decided to expand the production of the joint logistics food factory on Hong Kong Island. However, the limited freshwater resources on the island imposed a significant constraint on the food factory’s production. Therefore, they agreed to set up a food production plant in the Great World, with the products stored there for immediate supply once the operation began.
Along with this plan, he once again advocated for the pre-positioning of depots in enemy territory: the horse-drawn carriage company plan. However, it was still rejected. The plan itself was highly controversial, and the Military Affairs General Directorate had already stipulated several principles for formulating operational plans, one of which was to make maximum use of water transport for maneuver and supply.
After arriving in Guangzhou, besides supervising the implementation of the food procurement plan, Hong Huangnan spent his days collecting information on the local and surrounding grain situation through the Guangzhou Station’s intelligence system, especially by estimating the yield of the yet-to-be-harvested rice paddies, in order to roughly infer the actual production of each county. At the same time, he was preparing to set up a food factory in the Great World, specializing in the production of military rations.
In his spare time, Hong Huangnan would occasionally take a walk around the Great World under the protection of plainclothes guards—to gaze at his “hometown” in another time and space, not far away. It was the first time he had been so close to his “hometown” since “D-Day.”
Although he felt a certain affinity for this “hometown,” he didn’t dare get too close. This was enemy-occupied territory, after all. No matter how well he spoke Cantonese, he didn’t look like a Ming person. If he were to be kidnapped by some reckless bandit, it would be a huge mess. After the Lingao incident, the security for Senators had been upgraded.
During one of his walks, he met Chen Shixin. The boy’s dedication to art made a good impression on him—after all, he had also graduated from an art school. Although he had changed careers later, he hadn’t completely abandoned his major. From simple pointers to systematic teaching, they gradually became master and disciple without a formal relationship. Hong Huangnan felt that he was a promising talent in art, but for now, he had no plans for the boy—he had too much to do.
He didn’t expect him to come asking for a favor today. Hong Huangnan was a little curious and agreed to meet his friend.
“This humble citizen, Zhang Yu,” Zhang Yu said, seeing that his expression was calm and he didn’t have the imposing air of an official, nor were there any yamen runners on either side. He calmed down a little, and his speech became much smoother. “My family runs a walnut pastry shop…”
He then went on to say how his family’s shop was a century-old business, but he had heard that the Great World was also going to open a pastry shop, and he didn’t know if this pastry shop was run by the “chiefs”—because the things made by the chiefs were always good and cheap, so he had been very worried…
Hong Huangnan nodded slightly, feeling a great deal of goodwill towards this boy. A fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy who could think of sharing his family’s worries was not easy. He thought for a moment. The Ministry of Commerce was indeed preparing to open several “Australian-style” food and beverage shops in the Great World, selling things like cold drinks, pastries, fast food, and even “Australian cuisine.” As for a pastry shop, he hadn’t heard of one, but Mo Xiao’an had also told him that he was preparing to open a bakery in the Great World, planning to make and sell Western-style baked goods and Japanese-style rice flour sweets.
“There are no shops selling local pastries,” Hong Huangnan said. “But there are some selling Australian pastries.”